


Kissing it Better

by liionne



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Minor Violence, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-19 06:57:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2379089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liionne/pseuds/liionne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He was twice the size of you, Bucky. Twice the size. One of his cronies smashed a beer bottle. What if he had've stabbed you, huh? What then? What would I have done?" Steve's voice trembles. Honest to god, Bucky has never seen him so upset, and so stricken. It's strange, considering he wasn't even the one fighting. "You could have gotten yourself killed."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kissing it Better

**Author's Note:**

> Basically based on a conversation I had over kik with [cara](http://archaiism.tumblr.com), so kudos to her for this. Also, apologies for any mistakes.

The bar is _their_ bar. Bucky never brings his dates to a place like this, with smoke hanging in the air and nothing but cheap beer and whiskey on offer. No, when he decides to go out chasing skirt, as he does every so often to keep up appearances, he makes sure he takes them to a nice place. He's not going to take the gal to a shit-hole like this one.

And yet it's his most favourite place to go with Steve. Although to be honest, he's happy wherever, as long as Steve is there too.

Not that he can tell anyone that. Hell no. He keeps a hand pressed to the spot between Steve's shoulder blades as they walk through the bar to go and get themselves a drink, but he can just make out that it's because the place is packed, and he doesn't want to lose the little fella. _His_ little fella. He knows that no one is looking, that no one is paying them any damn attention, but hell- he still feels like he's getting away with something so damn wrong as his hand settles into that spot.

They find two empty bar stools, and settles in. It's crowded; it's a Friday night, and the dock workers have just gotten off. A lot of them go right home to their wives and their families, but most of them come here for a few drinks after a long day's work. Bucky would know; he used to be one of them. He's not anymore; now he works down at the car place fixing up automobiles, but hey, he knows what it's like to spend the entire day stacking heavy boxes in the blistering heat.

"A whiskey each for me and my pal." He orders, and the barman nods as he goes off to get their order.

Honestly, it doesn't take a lot to get Steve under the table. One, maybe two glasses of whiskey and he's normal gone, drunk enough that Bucky has to take him home, but he's aware of that. That's why he drinks so slowly, sips it. Bucky watches slender fingers curl around the glass, pink tongue dart out to lick his lips after each sip. Steve's eyes seem to catch the light just right, and Bucky's no artist, but god he would love to capture him like this, paint him in oils and place him pride of place in some gallery somewhere.

"I'll be back in a minute." Bucky tells him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. Steve nods, gives him a smile, and turns to the bar as Bucky heads for the rest room.

He shouldn't have gone. He knows that when he comes back, when he sees Steve - or rather, doesn't see Steve - surrounded by a group. He knows one of them; Barry Hardemoore, biggest bully in their grade at school. Bucky never made it through high school, but he know exactly who this guy is.

He's punched him more than a few times.

"-just a fruit cake, ain't you Rogers? Always were, always will be. You're _disgusting_. You fairies should all be put up in the slammer, y'know that? Lock you up 'n through away the god damn key, you fucking-"

"You better shut your mouth, Hardemoore, before I shut it for you." Bucky warns, as he goes to sit back down beside Steve, pushing through the group. He doesn't sit down, though; he stands by Steve's side, his hands in his pockets, regarding them all.

"The fuck's it gotta do with you, Barnes?" Hardemoore asks. He's drunk. Bucky can see that. "We're just givin' this pansy a good talkin' too. Ain't nothin' wrong with that, right?"

"Wrong." Bucky answers. "You leave him the fuck alone."

" _Bucky_." Steve grits out, exasperated. His cheeks are red, but not from embarrassment; Bucky knows he's angry, absolutely seething. Steve always is when it comes to guys like this. It's a miracle he hasn't done anything stupid. "Leave it."

"Yeah, Barnes," Hardemoore grins. His teeth are crooked, yellowed. He must spend more time in the bar than Bucky had thought. "Do what the fairy says and leave it."

"Don't you fuckin' call him that." Bucky spits, taking a step forward. He's downed the last of his drink, alcohol causing a buzz in the back of his mind, making him shake just a little. It's the buzz, though, not nerves. He's not nervous at all.

"Buck, forget about it." Steve huffs. It's the first time Bucky's seen him back down from a fight in his entire life.

"You a fairy too, Barnes?" Hardemoore asks, and Bucky glares. "'s that why you're so bothered? You and your pansy boyfriend there, out on date night? Well I'm sorry to interrupt but you two fags are disgus-"

Bucky's fist connects with his nose, blood gushing from it, coating Bucky's knuckles. He doesn't give a shit. He punches again, at his aw, and then it has stomach, at his eyes, hoping to hit him somewhere it really hurt. Somewhere he can do some god damn damage. Lord knows he deserves it.

But he gets hit a fair few times himself. Several hits to the face, a few to the chest. Someone smashes a bottle, and a shard scratches him on its way to the floor.

Steve drags him out of the bar before it can go any further; he's surprisingly strong for such a little guy.

He doesn't speak the entire way home, just drags Bucky in the direction of their little apartment. Bucky moved in after Steve's ma died; not that he had anywhere to go anyway. He'd just been lodging before that.

When Steve gets him home, he bundles him inside, and locks the door. Then he goes to the windows, and shuts them, and draws the curtains. He lights a few candles on the table rather than using the lights, and Bucky knows exactly what that means.

It means Steve is about to do something he doesn't want anything else to know about.

"You're an idiot, Buck." He hisses, and he pushes him down into a seat at the kitchen table. It only has two seats, but he doesn't pull the other one up. He roots through the cupboards until he finds himself a pan, and a bowl, and the first aid kit (Bucky pilfered it from his last job, which is maybe why he lost said job, but whatever. Stevie needed his medicine and stuff). He boils water whilst he turns to Bucky; he notes how his hands shake, but he doesn't say anything about it.

"He was twice the size of you, Bucky. Twice the size. One of his cronies smashed a beer bottle. What if he had've stabbed you, huh? What then? What would I have done?" Steve's voice trembles. Honest to god, Bucky has never seen him so upset, and so stricken. It's strange, considering he wasn't even the one fighting. "You could have gotten yourself _killed_."

Steve slowly undoes the buttons of his shirt as the water boils behind them. He's careful, head hung as he tries not to press on any wounds hidden by his shirt. There are none; just some bruising, his skin turned red now where it will later turn black. Steve purses his lips, and looks up.

"We should have just left." He continues. Bucky doesn't even try to speak. Steve uses gentle fingers to tilt his head back and look him over, blue eyes a little distant.

"You know this is what I feel like pretty much every day, don't you?" Bucky asks, eyebrows raising.

Steve turns away.

"You shouldn't have done it, Buck." Steve takes the pan off the boil and waits for it to cool, pouring the water into the bowl. He takes some cotton from the kit and dabs it into the water, turning back to Bucky and biting his lip. He uses it to wash Bucky's face, his split lip and the cut on his cheek, and then his split knuckles. He makes sure he cleans every spot of blood from his skin, and then he sighs. He looks like he's about to walk away, so Bucky reaches out and takes hold of his hands, holding them gently.

"Stevie," He murmurs, and he can already feel Steve deflate. "I couldn't let him talk to you like that, y'know?"

"Defending my honour?" Steve snorts, and Bucky can hear the derision in his voice. "Sticking up for me? I'm not your dame, Buck."

"No." Bucky murmurs, and his hands find Steve's waist. "No, you aren't. You're my fella. And I'm not gonna let him, or _anyone_ , talk to you like that. Not if you're not gonna stand up for yourself."

Steve huffs softly, staring down at him. He's mad, and Bucky knows that, but at the same time he can see him thawing, slowly but surely. Just like Bucky can't stay mad at Steve when he's hurt, Steve cannot stay mad at him either.

He pulls him in, and Bucky rests his head against Steve's abdomen, presses his face into his shirt. It's easy to block out everything else but Steve then, surrounded by his sweet scent and the soft fabric of his shirt.

"You're an idiot, Bucky." He hears Steve murmur, but then he feels fingers in his hair, and he knows he hasn't done too badly. Steve pulls him back with gentle hands, and crouches so that he can press a kiss to his lips. It's nothing much, just a soft peck, but it's good. Sweet. Bucky closes his eyes and leans into it until Steve pulls away.

"We should go to bed." he murmurs, and Bucky nods.

Bed doesn't mean what it would mean with a dame. Bed means bed. Bucky strips down to his underwear and Steve down to his trousers - because it's cold out during the night, despite the heat of the day - and Bucky wraps his arms around Steve to hold him close. Steve curls into him, head resting on his chest, and they sleep.

It's hardly the first time Bucky has stood up for Steve, and probably not the last, but at leas the making up was good. Even if, in the morning, Steve gasps when he sees his mottled skin, tainted blue and black and red. He has a black eye and his lips have swollen, and his chest is completely black. Steve thinks they should go to the hospital. But Bucky kisses him, ignores the pain in his lips and his face as they hold each other. He'd do it all again in a heartbeat, and he knows it.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a lot of things in the works at the moment, so I'm looking for a beta. Just someone who can read the first 500 or so words of a fic I'm writing and tell my if it's shit or not, and who can check works over for me before posting. Someone on tumblr, preferably, unless you're willing to confer via email. If you're interested, just drop me a message at http://offreedoms.tumblr.com. Thanks!


End file.
